Now And Then There's A Fool Such As I
by Red Bess Rackham
Summary: When Bela finds herself the victim of a vicious curse, Dean thinks it's pretty damn hilarious - until he gets dragged into trying to save her. Dean/Bela. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Entertainment purposes only. (Obviously.)

**A/n:** This fic takes place after my other Dean/Bela oneshot, "_Trust Issues_", but it's not strictly a sequel or anything (there's a couple references to it, but you don't have to read the other one first or anything). Written for the "Trouble is My Business" challenge at Beta Branch. Major thanks to inkspire and Cariadne for betaing! :D

Mandatory music for the first scene: "Mr. Blue Sky" by ELO

_Prompt: trouble is my business_

* * *

**Now And Then, There's A Fool Such As I**

Dean donned his sunglasses as the Impala blazed down the highway. It was early afternoon and the previous night had been a long one, so Sam was lightly dozing in the passenger's seat. Dean decided his brother had slept long enough when one of Dean's favorite songs came on the radio. He cranked the stereo and began singing along (not quietly).

_"Sun is shinin' in the sky, there ain't a cloooud in sight!"_

Sam jolted in his seat at the sudden noise and moaned a little.

_"It's stopped rainin', everybody's in a play _– come on Sammy, sing with me!"

Sam groaned again, straightening up and rubbing his palms over his face.

Dean ignored him and kept singing. _"It's a beautiful new day – heeey!_" He beat his hands on the steering wheel in time to the music. "Sing, Sammy!"

Sam shook his head, smiling a little. "No thanks, I'm good."

"Come _on_," his brother wheedled. "You know you want to."

"No, really," Sam insisted. "I'm okay to _not_ sing. In fact I'd probably be more okay if you also weren't singing."

Dean frowned, pretending to be wounded, but then belted out a few bars of the chorus at a much more obnoxious volume.

_"Mister Blue Sky, please tell us why, you had to hiiide away for sooo long – sooo long! Where did we go wrong?"_

Sam couldn't help cracking another smile.

"See?" Dean grinned. "It is _physically impossible_ not to feel happy when this song is on. You _need_ to sing along. It'll stop you from being grouchy, sourpuss."

"I'm not grouchy, I'm just exhausted." Sam glanced over his shoulder to the small curse box, sealed up in the back seat. Inside was a talisman, a token from their late night adventures. "That thing makes me a little nervous. We don't know what it does or how to destroy it yet."

"True," Dean nodded. "But we are on our way to figure that out, so there's no reason why you shouldn't be singing right now." He flashed his brother a wide grin.

Sam chuckled. "I'm not singing."

"Sam."

"Dean."

"_Sam._ It's ELO."

"I'm not singing."

Dean picked up the song again, leaning towards Sam. He increased his volume, and though Sam tried valiantly to resist, he finally gave in – it _was_ a catchy song. Sam started quietly, but his brother's enthusiasm was infectious. It wasn't long before the pair of them were belting out the lyrics (relatively off-tune, but they were having too much fun to care) and slapping the steering wheel and dashboard in time to the beats.

The Impala crested a hill and while Dean was busy head-banging, Sam was watching the road – in the middle of which stood a figure.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, smacking his brother's shoulder.

Dean gripped the steering wheel and slammed on the brakes. The car fish-tailed, Sam held on tight, and the figure loomed closer and closer until the Impala came to screeching halt. The figure, a woman, didn't flinch, and was standing only a few feet ahead of the now stationary car. The boys recovered their senses and then Dean swore very loud and very long.

Bela lifted her hand and wiggled her fingers in greeting, a satisfied smirk curling the edges of her lips. Dean yanked off his sunglasses and tossed them onto the seat. He was up and out of the car before Sam could stop him.

"You trying to get yourself killed?" Dean demanded, bearing down on the she-devil. His previously good mood dissolved rapidly.

"I'm trying to get a ride," she replied, cool and easy like nothing was out of the ordinary.

Sam exited the car, but hung back while Dean was getting in Bela's face.

"If I had realized it was you, I wouldn't have stopped," said Dean.

"I'm sure," Bela smiled.

"What the hell are you doing all the way out here, anyway?" Dean asked suspiciously.

"I'm stranded, clearly," said Bela, gesturing to the fields, trees, and highway around them. There were no vehicles in sight, moving or otherwise. "I just need a lift to the nearest town."

Dean shook his head. "No thanks. You're young; you can walk." He turned on his heel, striding back to the driver's door of his car.

"Please?" Bela tried.

"Nope." Dean waved her off.

"Dean…" Sam began.

He wasn't a big fan of Bela's for a number of reasons – chief among them being a certain bullet scar he sported because of her. But, she also wasn't nearly as bad as Dean acted (though Sam suspected a _lot_ of that tension came from the fact that Dean also _really liked _Bela in addition to hating her).

"Sam, shut up and get in the car."

"We can't just leave her here."

"Like hell we can't."

"_Dean_. We just have to take her as far as the next town."

Bela waited patiently, her arms crossed over her chest. Dean glared and glared, but Sam raised his eyebrows and waited him out.

"_Fine_," Dean relented. "But if she shoots you again, I'm saying _I told you so._"

* * *

"Thank you, boys," said Bela. "It's been a pleasure as always." She leaned forwards from the back seat to smile at each of them in turn.

"Just get out of the damn car," Dean growled.

Sam rolled his eyes. To Bela he said, "You're welcome. But you _should_ probably get out now."

She winked at him. "See you later, Sam." Turning to his brother, her tone became sultry. "Goodbye, _dar_ling."

Dean was scowling and determined to keep his eyes straight ahead and ignore the woman, until she trailed her fingers across his neck. Dean reacted like he'd been stabbed with a cattle prod, jumping away from her touch. Bela just laughed and slid out of the car. The moment she was clear of it, Dean pushed his foot down and peeled out of the parking lot.

Sam kept his lips pressed tight together to stop himself from laughing.

"Don't say a damn word," Dean warned.

Sam shook his head. "Wasn't gonna."

They'd barely hit the town limits, all of seven and a half minutes later, when Sam noticed something was wrong.

"Uh, Dean?"

"If this is about that woman – "

"The box is gone."

"_What?_"

Dean glanced over at his brother, who was empty handed. Sam grimaced.

"But you put in the front," said Dean, his forehead crunched with confusion and frustration. "We put it in the front seat _specifically_ so she wouldn't get it."

"I know – "

"Then _how_ is it gone?" Dean swore under his breath.

"Look, dude, your guess is as good as mine. It was sitting between us the whole time, and she was never in the front seat."

"I told you so. I _told _you so." Dean frowned and banged his hand on the steering wheel, before slowing the car and turning it around. "Have I mentioned how much I hate it when she gets one over on us?"

Sam sighed and pressed his palms to his eyes. "Yeah. Me too."

He had no clue how Bela had managed to swipe the talisman with both of them right here. He knew she was good at sleight of hand, but he didn't think she was _that_ good. He gave his head a shake. It didn't matter much _how_ she'd gotten a hold of it, only that she had, and they needed to get it back as soon as possible. It was a dangerous object, and since Bela was a dangerous woman, combining the two could only mean bad things.

She was, unsurprisingly, nowhere to be found when they rumbled back into town. She wasn't in the parking lot they'd dropped her off at, they had no clue which car she (probably) had stolen, and a quick check of both motels in the tiny town produced no fruit. Bela had wasted no time high-tailing it, and they had no idea where she'd taken the talisman.

Dean kicked at the ground before getting back into the Impala with his brother. Sam eyed his brother.

"Mr. Blue Sky?" he suggested. "Sourpuss?"

Dean glared. "Very funny."

* * *

Bela wasn't about to just crack open a curse box. She knew better. She didn't know what was concealed inside, and the boys were experienced and honestly smarter than she gave them credit for, so they wouldn't be stashing something completely harmless inside.

Yet her fingers itched to discover the box's contents. Ever since she'd swiped it from under the Winchesters' noses, she was dying to open it. As she drove down the highway in a stolen Toyota, she kept stealing glances at the small brown box with black symbols carved across its surface. Irritated with herself, Bela pulled over and put the box in the trunk to get it out of her sight.

She'd dealt with curse boxes before, and certainly had stolen more than her fair share of objects that contained a prize within, and rarely did she feel such a need to know what was in the box she was procuring. If her client was paying her very well to steal a box, she didn't need to know what was in it. In this instance, Bela had lifted the object from the boys just for fun, because there were few things she loved more in the world than the look on Dean's face when she pulled the wool over his eyes.

Bela smiled at the thought of his reaction when he discovered the box was gone. In fact, she hoped whatever the box contained _was_ important, because then they might even chase her for it. Slipping through Dean's fingers was another thing Bela rather loved doing.

After another ten miles, she found herself thinking of little else other than the damn box. She forced herself to focus, and pressed down harder on the accelerator.

* * *

Bela had trouble sleeping that night, which was unusual. She tossed and turned, sleeping fitfully before waking with a jolt. She didn't know why.

_The box is on the dresser._

She had strange dreams that blended together and melted away the moment she opened her eyes. She balled the sheets in her fists and she buried her face in the pillow.

_Just get up and open it_.

She refused to look at the clock and see how much sleep she had lost. Bela rearranged herself to find a more comfortable position, but couldn't seem to settle.

_It will only take a moment and then you'll know and you can get back to sleep._

Finally, with a frustrated growl, Bela threw off the blankets and stalked over to the dresser. She felt hazy and half-asleep, but she just _had_ to know. She was certain that once she determined what was in the box, she would be able to sleep peacefully.

It took her just a few seconds to pick the lock, and she flipped open the latch. Inside was a dark amulet ringed by small white jewels, attached at the top to a long silvery chain. Bela's breath caught in her throat as her fingers reached out of their own volition to brush across its gleaming surface.

_There_. _Now you know_.

She shivered as a chill passed over her. Something felt off, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Instead, she smiled at the jewel and closed the box, curiosity satisfied. She was still smiling when she _finally_ fell properly asleep.

* * *

Sam and Dean stopped for the night, trying to decide their next move. They needed to get the talisman back from Bela, but didn't have any leads on where she'd gone with it. Dean wanted to simply move on and find a new hunting job to take care of, but Sam disagreed.

"We have to get it back from her," he said. "We don't know what it's capable of or what it does."

Dean shrugged. "She's probably already sold it. It'll crop up again, and when it does, we'll get it then. If you haven't noticed, if she wants to disappear, she _freaking disappears_."

Sam sighed, but agreed there wasn't anything more they could do tonight, so he let the issue rest. He silently decided to revisit it first thing in the morning, however.

The next day, Sam and Dean fought briefly about what to do about Bela and the talisman. In the end, Sam more or less won: he managed to get Dean to agree to look for Bela for one more day. Dean made him promise, however, that if they were unable to catch her trail, then they would leave for a new hunting job the following day.

By late evening, after hours of research and chasing down leads that went nowhere, they finally called it a night. Sometime shortly after dawn, they were woken by frantic knocking on the door to their motel room. The boys exchanged bleary glances and grabbed for whatever weapon was closest to their beds. Dean's hair was sticking up at various angles as he slowly approached the door in his pajamas, gun at the ready, with Sam right behind him, dagger in hand.

The knocker rapped sharply again and Dean cautiously slid over to peer through the peephole. He dropped his head with a sigh and unlocked the door to reveal Bela. Sam's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

Bela looked worse for the wear: there were dark shadows under her eyes, and her hair was a tangled mess. She was curiously soaking wet, her clothes dirty, and her hands were covered in scrapes and bruises. She had the curse box she'd stolen from them tucked in the crook of her arm.

"I've made a mistake," she said by way of greeting and stalked into the room.

Dean didn't bother to hide his amusement at the sight of her looking uncharacteristically like a total mess. "What happened to you?"

Bela sighed, carefully setting the curse box on the table, but not letting go of it. "I think the more appropriate question is what _hasn't_ happened." She collapsed into the nearest chair with a squelch. With another sigh, she began listing, "My hair dryer blew a fuse, I got food poisoning from yesterday's breakfast, my car got a flat tire, my heel broke on my favorite shoes and I twisted my ankle. I've fought off about a dozen sprites, and two ghosts – which won't bloody leave me alone. I haven't slept for two nights now, _and_ I seem to have lost my wallet."

Sam would have felt more sympathy for her, had his own similarly miserable experience with bad luck not been a direct result of Bela stealing the rabbit's foot from him. Dean, on the other hand, grinned wider with each passing second. He crossed his arms over his chest, an insufferably smug expression on his face.

"You lost your wallet," he said. "Isn't that ironic."

Bela ignored him.

Unperturbed, Dean asked, "So, did you find another rabbit's foot and lose it?"

Sam noticed how Bela's fingers tightened around the curse box when she answered, "No, Dean, I did not."

Sam cleared his throat. "Could I see that box for a minute?"

"See, that's the thing," said Bela hesitantly. She ran her fingers idly back and forth over the box's edge. "I… can't seem to let go of it. Ever since I…" She ducked her head and flushed with embarrassment – an almost entirely foreign emotion to see coming from her. "Touched the amulet inside."

"You _touched _it?" Dean repeated incredulously, enjoying Bela's predicament immensely. "Because that worked out so well last time."

"I didn't _want_ to!" Bela snapped defensively. "I just couldn't seem to help myself. I couldn't sleep, and then I was… I opened the box."

Sam nodded thoughtfully. "Actually, that can be fairly common with cursed objects. There's a certain _pull_ to them that lures people into handling them, and then, of course, they get cursed."

Bela buried her face in the hand not grasping the box and groaned. Dean was still openly grinning.

"Christmas has come early," he laughed and clapped Sam on the back. "I think this might be the best thing that has ever happened."

"Ha ha," said Bela humorlessly. "You can just be glad I stole this little thing from you, otherwise _you'd_ be the cursed idiot right now."

"I _am_ glad. I am very, _very _– "

A ghost flew through the motel room wall, pale, opaque, and moaning.

"Not again!" Bela complained.

Sam and Dean jumped back, reaching for their salt guns. Bela drew a hand gun from her belt as the ghost charged her, shooting a small round of rock salt into the ghost's wide open maw. It dissipated with a shriek.

"Who was that?" Dean demanded.

"How should _I_ know?" Bela returned hotly. "That's one of the ones that's been dogging me for the past twenty-four hours. You better make yourself useful and grab some iron or something, because the other one usually isn't far behind."

"Wait," Sam held up his hand. "You don't know who the ghost is or why it's after you?"

"Of course not!" Bela replied. "Why would I?"

"Ghosts only haunt people or places they're tied to," he said. "They don't just – "

A second ghost, larger and more hideous, flickered into existence. It roared and charged. Bela had to shoot it twice before it disappeared.

"Told you," she said, then checked the chamber of her smoking gun. "Damn, I'm almost out of rounds. Don't suppose you fellows could spot me some salt?"

* * *

They lined the motel room with salt, and while Dean went to the car to get some more, as well as more rounds and weapons, Sam asked Bela to tell him details about what had transpired since she last saw them. He was good at mostly keeping a straight face as she described the various misfortunes she had suffered. He also formed some theories about what was going on, but decided to do some research before he voiced them.

Dean returned and spread everything out on the beds and the table. He loaded several of the guns with fresh salt rounds while Sam opened his laptop and began searching for lore.

"So, who'd you kill?" Dean asked Bela, smiling again.

"I told you, I don't know who those ghosts are."

"I find that hard to believe."

"Believe what you will, darling, I don't know them."

"Right." Dean nodded. "They're just haunting you for no reason."

Before Bela could retort, Sam interjected, "No, there's definitely a reason. And I'm pretty sure it's in that box."

"The amulet?" said Bela, then swore softly under her breath.

Sam nodded. "The Amulet of Sutekh." He read aloud from his laptop, "An object of great evil, the Amulet of Sutekh will compel a person into procuring it. They are then plagued by a storm of chaos and suffering."

Bela blanched, and Dean laughed.

Sam continued, "All manner of malevolence will be drawn to the bearer of the Amulet, growing steadily worse, until the cursed bearer is deceased. The Amulet will then mark the bearer, and begin anew in its quest to possess and destroy the wicked."

Dean opened his mouth to make a remark, but Bela held up a finger. "Don't you dare."

"Great care must be taken not to come in direct contact with the Amulet," Sam read on and fought off a smirk. Dean chuckled and Bela pressed her lips into a thin line. "Else the curse shall befall the person who touched it, and they will be unable to escape the amulet's influence."

"Wonderful," Bela mumbled and shifted in her seat. "What does it say about _stopping_ the damn thing?"

Sam winced, scrolling across a number of pages on his laptop. "It... doesn't."

"Well, there has to be a way – there's _always_ a way," she reasoned. She sort of squirmed in her chair uneasily and tried to cover the movement by crossing her legs. "I don't fancy dying at the hand of bloody magic amulet and all its evil friends."

Dean laughed into his hand.

"Don't worry," said Sam, ignoring his snickering brother. "I'll talk to Bobby, and we'll keep looking."

Bela squirmed again, biting her lip and looking very uncomfortable, like something was suddenly wrong with her chair.

"What's up with you?" Dean eyed her.

Bela's cheeks reddened. "I seem to… have developed a… rash."

Dean barked with laughter. "Oh God, just when I think it can't get any better."

* * *

Bobby was stumped on how to fix Bela's predicament, but agreed to look into it right away.

"If it kills her, it'll just move on to somebody new," he said. "Don't want that, now, do we?"

Sam fought off a laugh.

"In the meantime, you boys better get her somewhere away from the general public," Bobby instructed. "The last thing you want is an army of evil descending on some poor unsuspecting spit of a town."

He then told Sam about a cabin that a buddy of his owned, not far from where the guys and Bela were located.

"He's on holiday in Majorca, so they'll be no one around to get caught in the crossfire," said Bobby. "And he's a hunter, so it oughta be well-stocked for all your evil-fighting needs."

Sam could hear the smile in his friend's voice. He couldn't help feeling pleased that Bela was the one who was cursed too, Sam could tell.

"Thanks, Bobby. Let me know if you turn up anything else."

After he relayed the information to Dean and Bela, the boys promptly packed up their belongings. Dean made sure his gun was ready and loaded before they left the room, just in case Bela's ghosts were waiting for them.

"Come on, Gollum," he grinned. "Grab your Precious and let's go."

Bela made a face at him, but scooped up the curse box and clutched it to her chest all the same.

* * *

Minutes after they exited the motel, Bela's two ghosts were back, this time with a friend. Dean and Sam took care of them while Bela ran for the Impala. In her haste, she tripped and fell, and lost her grip on the curse box, sending it skittering across the pavement. The moment it left her fingers, she cried out and then her hands flew to her throat.

Dean dispatched the last ghost. "Oh, it is going to be a _long_ day," he said with the shake of his head.

"Dean!" Sam shouted and ran for Bela. Dean saw she was shaking on the ground, and hurried after his brother to her side.

Though there was nothing visibly wrapped around her throat, Bela clawed at her neck as though the life was being choked out of her. And it certainly seemed to be, as her face grew steadily redder and her eyes bulged. She writhed and trembled, desperate for air. Sam's eyes darted around, trying to determine the cause of Bela's choking. Dean spotted the box a few feet away and acting on a hunch, he raced over to snatch it up. The moment he dropped it onto Bela's chest, she gasped for breath, and the redness on her throat immediately began to fade.

"Holy hell," Dean murmured.

"You okay?" Sam asked as Bela sucked in several more deep breaths.

"That's... new," she croaked, then added, "I'll... survive." She took another couple deep breaths. "Hopefully."

"Wow," said Dean. "You really _can't_ let go of it." He helped her to her feet; the corner up his lips twitched up.

"I'm glad you find my imminent death... so _very_ amusing," Bela snapped, rubbing at her throat with the hand not clutching the curse box tightly.

"Of all the ways I've imagined your death, sweetheart, freaky cursed amulet was actually not one of them," Dean smirked. "I kinda like it."

Bela flipped him the bird and climbed into the back of the Impala, but Dean just laughed loudly as he settled into the driver's seat.

* * *

The drive to the cabin was not pleasant. Though only forty minutes away from the town, it ended up being a whole _hell_ of a lot longer than that with all the trouble Bela brought down on them. They had to pull over no fewer than five times to deal with a variety of issues.

The first time they stopped was also the first time the ghosts showed up since the motel. Bela screamed and fumbled for salt as one of the ghosts scrabbled at her throat. Sam swung a tire iron at it, careful not to hit Dean and Bela. Dean slammed on the brakes and tried not to drive off the road while fighting off the second ghost.

A few miles later they had to pull over to fix a flat tire (Dean was pissed that Bela's storm of chaos was now affecting Baby). Their next stop was to fix the wipers (which got stuck in the middle of a freak thunderstorm and made it near impossible to drive, but thankfully only lasted fifteen minutes). The fourth stop was to gank a swamp demon that sprang out of the grassy ditch and tried to chew through the hood, and the fifth was to clear a fallen tree on the windy dirt road leading to the cabin, after which they were attacked by a swarm of sprites.

Sprites, as far as Dean was concerned, were the mosquitoes and wasps of the spirit world: annoying, pointless, and loved to bite you. They weren't the mischievous, cutesy elf-things the wide world seemed to think they were, but rather some sort of spirit hybrid with razor sharp claws and teeth. Sprites weren't much bigger than 4 inches tall, and though they tended to stick to messing around in the spirit world, preying on other spirits, it was not uncommon for a group of them to surface and wreak some havoc amongst the living.

Though not overly dangerous, they definitely could be a serious nuisance, especially in larger numbers. Wounds from their bites or scratches burned continuously until a salve or cream laced with cinnamon could be applied. Cinnamon turned them to dust, though salt would momentarily stun them.

Thankfully they had a lot of salt.

The bastards were fast, and every inch of exposed skin Dean had was sporting a stinging scrape by the time he, Sam, and Bela were able to fight off enough of them to get back in the car and speed off towards the cabin. Once they arrived, they made a break for the cabin but the ghosts were back yet again, this time with _two more_ buddies. One of them sent Bela flying before she could take care of it, and she lost her grip on the box. Dean left the ghosts up to his brother while he bolted to get the box back in Bela's flailing hands before she choked again.

"Hold onto this, will you?" he snapped, jamming it at her.

She gasped as her breath came flooding back into her lungs. Dean sprinted back to Sam to join him in the ghost melee which thankfully was over in minutes.

Ghosts gone for now, the trio stumbled into the cabin.

They wasted no time in lining the place with salt and cinnamon, and Dean was happy to note hex bags and warding symbols nearly everywhere he went in the small three room dwelling. Sam prepared batches of holy water in case demons started showing up, and he mixed up cinnamon salve for their sprite bites. Bela collapsed with exhaustion onto the old gray couch by the fireplace.

Briefly they discussed how to get rid of the ghosts once and for all, but with no clue as to who they were, there was no way to burn their remains. Besides, with the way more kept showing up, Sam suspected the amulet would only send more after them. The amulet had to be taken care of first, and soon.

Bela's hands were shaky as she cracked open the curse box. "Considering what happened back at the motel, and again outside just now," she said hesitantly. "I think it's a better idea if I... if I put this on, rather than continue to keep a hold of the box."

Dean re-entered the room, warding complete, and exchanged uneasy glances with Sam, who came into the living room area holding bowls of salve.

"Unless either of _you_ have a wiser solution?" said Bela hopefully, looking from one brother to the other. When neither answered immediately, she asked, "What is it?"

Sam set the bowls down on the coffee table. "It's just that..." he shifted and rubbed the back of his neck.

"The dude we found wearing this was kinda fried," Dean said bluntly, plopping down in the chair across from Bela. "It'd burned his skin everywhere the chain and the amulet touched him. It was still smoking when we got there. We don't think that's what killed him, but it certainly wasn't pretty."

"We didn't know what the amulet did, or what happened, so were pretty careful not to touch it when we wrapped and boxed it up," added Sam. He crossed his arms over his chest, then winced and dropped them back to his sides. The wounds inflicted by the sprites were too tender to touch. "We weren't going to do anything with it until we knew more about what we were dealing with."

"The point is, unless you want a big ol' amulet sized hole on your..." Dean gestured vaguely, staring at the V of her V-neck. "In your _chest_, you probably shouldn't put that thing on."

"Ah, and then I would spoil your view," Bela teased, lifting an eyebrow suggestively as she slipped the amulet's chain over her head.

Dean didn't have the grace to even pretend to be embarrassed by what she was implying, which made Bela smile for what felt like the first time in far too many hours. Impending death or not, bantering with Dean always made her feel better.

"Flirt all you want, sweetheart, I am enjoying your misery _way_ too much to be bothered by it today." He grabbed one of the bowls and began applying the cream to his sprite-inflicted wounds, hissing until the cinnamon did its job and took away the hot sting.

"Today?" she questioned, and reached out to scoop up a bowl of her own. "So you've been bothered by it in the past?" She tapped her lip thoughtfully with her finger. "I shall have to make note of that."

Dean chuckled.

Sam rolled his eyes and retreated to the kitchen area to make himself a bowl of salve.

With a slight sigh, Bela said, "In any event, I suppose burned skin is a preferable alternative to choking to death should I lose my grip on the damn box again." She frowned and set the box aside.

Dean didn't disagree.

They spent several minutes applying the sprite cream in silence, relief spreading instantly over their inflamed skin. Bela struggled to reach an area of her back that wasn't covered by her shirt, and finally she broke the silence that had descended with a huffing sigh.

"I can't reach."

She sounded so miserable, and looked it too, that despite everything that had happened so far (the damage to Baby had _certainly_ dampened Dean's amusement over this whole thing), Bela's predicament became funny all over again.

He chuckled and grinned.

"It's not funny," Bela whined, pushing a lock of tangled hair away from her bruised face.

"It is actually," said Dean. He left his chair to sit beside Bela, who turned her back to him and moved her hair out of the way so he could access the patch of skin above her shirt and below her neck that she was unable to reach. "You have to admit if situations were reversed, you'd be laughing your ass off right about now." He gingerly began applying the cream.

Bela's shoulders tensed at first, then slowly relaxed. She tilted her head down and he could hear the smile in her voice when she answered, "I suppose that's true. You _could_ be a little nicer, though. Given how much I've already been through today."

Dean paused in spreading the cream on Bela. "Um, and _you_ could try making my life less of a living hell on a regular basis." He snorted and continued gently rubbing on the salve. "But you don't, so I don't think I need to be _nicer_."

"Oh, come on, Dean," said Bela. "Admit it. Sometimes you think I'm not all that bad."

He scoffed and shook his head. He didn't even realize his fingers had slowed and were tracing over the same area of her skin.

"Once in a while," he grumbled, barely audible. Louder, he added, "When you're not acting like a complete bitch."

"You like me because I'm a bitch."

"That is so not – "

"Sorry to break up your _Star Wars_ moment," Sam called from the kitchen. "But we have company!"

* * *

**A/n**: This was originally written as a oneshot, but because it's kind of beastly long for a oneshot, I'm breaking it into two. And I would say sorry about the cliffhanger, but... not sorry. ;P Stay tuned for Part 2!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/n:** Fun fact: Sutekh is the Egyptian god of deserts, evil, and chaos. :D Here's part 2 - hope you like!

* * *

Dean jumped up from the couch and raced for the nearest gun. "What d'we got?"

Bela was right behind him, nervously touching the amulet at her throat with one hand while she scooped up a weapon with the other.

"Demon," Sam reported grimly, and pointed out the window above the kitchen sink.

A tall, burly man with pure black eyes was striding fiercely towards the cabin, an axe in his hand. He swung it a few times in a threatening arc.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are!" he bellowed in a great, booming voice.

From behind him emerged a second man, shorter with dark skin, but no less muscled.

"Make that two," said Sam.

Bela paled. "Shit, shit, _shit_…"

The boys threw open the window and immediately started firing off salt rounds to keep the things at bay. Bela backed away, deciding it was probably a good idea if she stayed away from the windows for now. Her eyes were drawn to the door and she suddenly had the urge to run.

_No,_ she thought. _It's safe in here – it's warded._

But she was walking towards the door anyways. She set her weapon down on the chair.

_They'll protect me. Dean and Sam will keep me safe._

She knelt down in front of the door, clutching the amulet around her neck tight with one hand while the other slowly reached for the salt line. Panic spiked in her chest but her arm wouldn't listen and _stop_, and her voice suddenly fled her throat.

_Damn it, Bela, stop! Don't let it control you!_

She shut her eyes and used every ounce of will power she had to try and prevent her hand from breaking the salt line. Her hand hovered and quivered, inches above the line of safety. Sweat broke out on her forehead and she _tried_ to call out for Dean, but her lips wouldn't open, and she couldn't pull her _damn hand back_ –

"Bela, _no!_" he hollered behind her.

Her hand dropped and brushed away a chunk of the line.

"I'm sorry!" she cried, her voice back under her control. "I couldn't – "

Before she finished her sentence, and before Dean reached her side, the door was blasted off its hinges. The force of it threw Bela across the room and she slumped against the wall. The taller demon crossed the threshold and the boys each barely had a chance to get a shot off before the demon's hand twitched and their guns went flying.

Sam immediately started reciting an exorcism passage, while Dean scrambled for his other gun. As the second demon entered the cabin, Sam's mouth snapped shut and he could no longer speak. Dean was back on his feet and shot the big one wielding the axe, while Sam unsheathed his dagger and charged the smaller, dark one.

The salt round glanced off the burly guy's shoulder. He took a swing at Dean with his axe, Dean dodged him and aimed for the guy's hand this time. The demon yelped and let go of the axe, but rather than diving to retrieve it, he gave a furious roar, bolted forwards and tackled Dean to the cabin floor. The wind rushed out of Dean in a big gust, his gun clattered out of his fingers, and the demon's fist slammed into the side of Dean's head. He saw white and then the pressure of the demon's body was off him as Dean gasped for breath.

As he rolled over, he realized why: the demon was headed straight for Bela. She struggled to sit up out of the pieces of the door surrounding her. Dean jumped to his feet, gulping air and trying to shake the stars out of his eyes as he lunged and took the demon out at the knees. The guy crashed straight down, his face cracking on the floorboards. Dean was too far away from the axe so he snatched up his spare knife from his belt and jabbed it between the demon's shoulder blades. The thing wailed in pain and twisted away.

Sam shouted and Dean whirled to see what was going on, when he realized Sam had the dark one pinned. Sam had managed to overcome whatever the demon had done to him to stop him from speaking, and he was hastily reciting an exorcism passage. His dagger had been knocked away from him and Dean reached to grab it at once to use against the big guy.

"Behind you!" Bela called. She was on her hands and knees, bleeding from the head.

Dean swung the dagger around in a wide arc and caught the big one in the gut. He sputtered and growled for a moment, reaching for Dean's throat, before his eyes rolled back into his head and a black column of smoke came screaming out of his mouth. Across the room, Sam finished exorcising the other demon.

Dean collapsed backwards onto the cabin floor, sweating and panting, dizzy and sore. He glanced at Bela. She was pale and shaky, still on her hands and knees. Her arms quivered as she tried to get to her feet, but the amulet was dragging her down, visibly cutting into her neck like it was incredibly heavy.

"Help…" she whispered.

Dean hurried to her side and for a moment he couldn't see what was wrong. Then he looked down at her hands to see her wrists encircled in something black and wet looking. Her hands were covered with it, and the goo was slowly making its way up her arms.

"What the _hell_?" Dean exclaimed in horror.

He'd never seen anything like this before. He jumped up and grabbed a container of salt, and poured a bunch out onto the stuff. It sizzled and bubbled, but didn't slow down. Bela's eyes were glistening with frightened tears.

"Sam!" Dean bellowed. "Need a little help here!"

Sam fell to his knees on the floor beside them. His eyes darted frantically over Bela and the black stuff, which was now at her elbows. The amulet around her neck was leaning at an unnatural angle _towards _the stuff, while Bela was doing her best to lean away, even though it was taking an incredible amount of effort.

"What is it?" Dean demanded. He _hated_ how helpless she looked.

"Holy water!" said Sam, and bolted to the kitchen and back with a jug of it.

As soon as he poured it on the muck, it smoked and fell away from Bela's skin, dissolving to nothing. Her skin was pink like mild sunburn, but seemed otherwise unharmed. Sam emptied the jug on her arms. When the last of the black stuff trickled away, the amulet dropped against her chest, and Bela collapsed backwards. Dean reached out and caught her before she hit the floor, gently turning her so she was able to lean against the wall.

As the three of them panted and caught their breath in the aftermath, Dean turned his brother.

"So… what was… that stuff?" he asked in between breaths.

Sam shrugged. "Hell if I know."

Dean narrowed his eyes. "The holy water…?"

"Blind guess," Sam admitted. He pushed the hair out of his eyes. "Glad it worked."

"Me… too," Bela replied wearily. She was sporting a fresh gash on her cheek and at her hairline, and the shadows under her eyes were so dark they looked like deep bruises. She momentarily closed her eyes.

Dean clenched his jaw briefly. "Okay," he said. "I think this officially stopped being funny."

Her eyelids fluttered open and her gaze landed on Dean. "I'm glad... we finally agree... on something," she panted softly.

* * *

Once the salt and cinnamon lines had been repaired, and the handful of sprites who'd made it inside during the demon attack ganked, Sam broke out his laptop to find a way to end Bela's curse. Dean restocked their salt rounds and removed the empty bodies left by the demons. Outside, the sun was almost set, and the sky had faded from brilliant orange and pink hues to a moody navy.

Bela huddled on the couch across from Dean. She twitched and cringed at small noises and he could tell she was afraid to leave his sight, lest the amulet compel her to break their wards again. It bothered him to see her look so frightened, but he couldn't think of a single comforting thing to say.

"I think I finally found something," said Sam. He jotted a few things down on a piece of paper. "I'm going to have to go get supplies, though." He glanced uneasily at Bela before settling his hesitant gaze on his brother. "You… going to be okay?"

"The sooner this is over, the better," Dean replied, cocking the shotgun in his hands. "We'll be fine." He flashed Sam a smile, full of confidence he didn't exactly feel. He set the shotgun down and moved on to the next one.

Sam nodded, shoving the piece of paper with the list of supplies in his pocket. He grabbed his jacket, a gun, his dagger, a container of salt and cinnamon and he headed out the back door. Either the creatures that had been dogging them all day were taking a momentary respite from terrorizing them, or they weren't interested in Sam, for a minute later he heard Baby start up and Sam peel down the gravel and dirt driveway without incident.

"I have to say," said Bela, her voice brittle and weak. "I didn't think it would end like this."

She fingered the chain around her neck, and Dean could see her skin was red and raw where the chain cut into her. He'd made a _Lord of the Rings_ joke earlier, but seeing her look alarmingly like Frodo at the end of _Return of the King_ completely took the humor out of it now.

"Hey, it's not over _yet_, sweetheart," he assured her.

"Isn't it?" she countered with a slight raise of her eyebrow, a ghost of the superior expression she usually wore.

He leveled his gaze at her. "I don't see a fat lady."

She smiled at that, and he felt a little better at the sight. The idea of _her_ giving up, of all people, was very unsettling. He wasn't going to let her.

"Dean…" she began, unsure. He waited patiently. When she tried again, her voice was only slightly less shaky. "Dean, I… I wanted you to know – "

But whatever it was, he never got the chance to hear. At that moment, something massive and shadowy came crashing through the living room window. Bela screamed and ducked for cover as Dean leapt to his feet and started firing. The salt rounds exploded harmlessly on the thing's chest-area, and it dove over Dean's head to attack Bela. It slashed with big, shadowy claws and Bela screamed as it ripped through her arm.

Dean flipped his gun and used it like a baseball bat, colliding into the creature with bone-jarring force. It shrieked and flew towards the kitchen, spinning and flailing. Dean wasted no time in grabbing Bela's arm and hauling her to her feet. They dashed to the bedroom and Dean slammed the door behind them. He shoved the dresser in front of the door and backed away fast, his heart pounding in his chest.

A quick glance around the room reminded him that he'd boarded up the small bedroom windows earlier when he was warding the cabin, so they were momentarily safe. One look at Bela, however, and he realized that _safe_ was a relative term.

She huddled in the corner of the room, holding her injured and bleeding arm. Tears were making tracks down her cheeks and that damn amulet on her chest was pulsing gently with a weird sort of – Dean didn't know how to describe it – dark energy. He hurried to her and dropped beside her.

"I… I think… the fat lady is here," she sniffled.

Dean swallowed and wrapped his arm around Bela, careful not to touch her injuries. "Not yet," he said sternly. His gut twisted at the fear in her eyes. "Not by a long shot."

Her lip trembled. "I'm sorry," she cried. Then her eyes rolled back in her head and she went limp in his arms.

"Bela? Hey, no, no – _Bela._" He shook her gently. She moaned quietly. "Don't do this now."

_Sam, where are you._

"Bela," Dean tried again, and pressed his fingers to her neck – she still had a pulse.

The monsters were outside the cabin walls, outside the bedroom door. He could sense them descending, crowding, waiting. There were thumps on the roof, on the walls and boarded up windows. Howls and cries and wails could be heard in all directions.

"Damn it, woman," Dean whispered. He brushed his fingers over her cheek.

"Dean…" Her lips barely moved as she breathed his name.

Louder, he said, "Hey, don't die on me now, Bela. You hear me? Who's going to perpetually steal my crap if you die, huh?"

The amulet began to smoke and sizzle, and suddenly all Dean could picture was that poor sap he and Sammy found with the charred skin. Dean felt his heart jump into his throat, and he did the only thing he could think of, even if it was also possibly the _stupidest_ thing he could think of.

He snatched the talisman from Bela's neck and though it scalded his hands for a moment, it cooled before he could think of releasing it. He let go of Bela and got up to shove the dresser out of his way. He threw open the door, burst out of the bedroom, dodging shadows, sprites, and _things_. He bolted out of the cabin, his arm up to shield himself from the creatures and spirits gathered. They snarled and shrieked but didn't attack him. For a moment, Dean thought his "plan" was about to go horribly wrong, and the beings would descend on Bela anyways.

He waved the amulet above his head. "Come and get it, bitches!" he shouted and took off into the woods.

The monsters comically turned almost in unison, and shot off after Dean and the cursed amulet.

_Great_, he thought, leaping over fallen logs. _This was an excellent plan, Dean. Brilliant. What the hell do you think'll happen next? Damn it, why are you risking your life for _her_?_

Something with massive claws snatched at his shirt and Dean tried to run faster.

_God damn idiot. This is the worst plan in the history of plans._

A creature seized Dean's arm and though he shook it off, a dark shadow darted in front of his feet to trip him. He tumbled sideways into a tree, scraping his skin on the bark, and though he tried valiantly not to fall, he crashed to ground and got a mouthful of pine needles and dirt. He attempted to scramble to his feet, making it to his knees, before he was hit hard in the head with something solid and went down again.

Blinking the stars from his eyes, Dean flipped over and attempted to throw the amulet away, but his fist wouldn't open to release his grip on the chain. He jerked his arm and growled angrily. Instead, he tried waving the amulet at the variety of threats closing in on him, but they didn't seem bothered by it in the slightest. His hand passed right through the ghosts, and it knocked away a few sprites buzzing within range. The two enormous shadowy things with the claws kept coming.

He shimmied backwards and snatched up a large stick with his other hand, swinging it wildly at the creatures.

"Come on!" he shouted, though they needed no encouragement.

Then all at once, they descended on Dean like hungry lions on a zebra. He kicked and fought and flailed as they ripped and tore and bit at his clothes and skin. He could feel blood trailing down his face. His hand was burning – no, the _chain _was burning, and he still couldn't let go.

And was that howling? He couldn't be sure through the shrieking, screaming, and wailing all around him. Something slashed at his leg and it was the Hounds, he knew, and panic flooded his chest. The Hounds all over again...

He was dimly aware of his own voice, raw and ragged and crying out in pain. And he was pissed that he was about to die, and worse still, die for _Bela_. He never thought it would end quite like this.

_And I never even took her up on that offer for sex..._

From very far away, he heard his name, and his eyes flew open to see Sam, like a freaking knight in shining armour, slicing his way through the mass of creatures with his dagger in one hand and something bright white in the other. He dropped to Dean's side and brought the white thing down on the amulet. The jewel cracked and exploded, and the scream that burst out of it was deafening. The chain grew hotter still in Dean's hand but as he flinched away from the pain, his fingers finally released their hold.

Harsh light shot out from the howling talisman, and all the creatures began to wail too. Sam scrambled out of the way, hauling his brother with him. Then the amulet exploded and the boys shielded their eyes against the brilliance. A wave of hot air blasted past them, there was a distant _boom,_ and then everything fell dead silent.

Dean cautiously opened his eyes to see a crater where the amulet had been, and no sign of any of the monsters that had been attacking him. He glanced at Sam who was panting and slumped against a tree. Dean cradled his burned hand, and tried not to move – there was no part of him that didn't hurt.

"How...?" he managed to ask.

Sam held up the white thing from before, which Dean could see more properly in the moonlight was a white ivory tusk.

"Seriously?"

Sam nodded and gulped air before replying. "Bobby called. Needed something pure – apparently ivory. Came back... as soon as I could." He wiped his glistening forehead with his arm. "Glad it worked." He smirked a little, repeating his words from earlier after the creepy black goo.

Dean glanced at his brother and almost laughed. "Yeah. Me too."

* * *

Dean could walk… kind of. He was bruised and battered, with large gashes on his ribs, arms, face and legs. He leaned heavily on Sam as they picked their way back through the woods towards the cabin. Bela's name was on the tip of Dean's tongue – he wanted to ask his brother if she was okay – but he dreaded one of the possible answers, so he stayed quiet.

When the cabin came in to view, he saw her silhouette perched on the front steps and let out his breath in a rush. If Sam noticed, he didn't comment.

The relief on Bela's face was unmistakeable when she spotted the boys limping out of the woods. She didn't even bother to hide it when they were closer either, and when she locked her eyes on Dean's, he felt a burst of unexpected warmth bloom in his chest.

"You alive?" he asked when he and Sam stood in front of her.

She nodded slowly, still not taking her eyes off him. Bela answered softly, "More or less. You?"

He almost shrugged but stopped when pain lanced through his shoulder. He exhaled as it passed. "More or less."

Her gaze was making him uncomfortable, so he swiftly moved them back into familiar territory. He looked away and cleared his throat.

"Thanks for this, by the way," he quipped sarcastically as he gestured down his front with his unburnt hand. "I haven't had a good _thrashing_ in a while. I'd forgotten how it feels. So thank you."

Bela's usual mask was back faster than he could blink, after she briefly ducked her head as though she realized he'd seen past it a moment ago. He felt a pang of regret that he pushed her so quickly and effortlessly back to her regular state.

"Yes, well." She lifted her head and smiled only a little, careful not to aggravate her split lip. "Anytime." She got unsteadily to her feet, and Sam reached out with the arm not occupied with holding Dean to grasp Bela.

"Whoa, you okay?" asked Sam, his forehead creasing with worry.

"Tip top shape," Bela replied flippantly, but when she took a step towards the cabin, she stumbled and cried out.

Dean lunged to help her and paid for it as pain shot through his ribs and leg. He doubled over and moaned.

"Wow," said Sam, glancing between the bloody, bruised, ragged pair before him. "Inside, both of you, now."

"I'm fine," Dean wheezed.

"You're an idiot," Sam mumbled too low for his brother to hear.

Sam helped Dean and Bela hobble and limp into the cabin and settled them onto the couch. It was a very long hour while Sam tended to their respective injuries and bandaged them up. They whined and sniped as much at him as at each other, and twice Sam told them to can it, but the quiet never lasted long.

"I could've handled it, you know," said Bela after another Sam-induced period of silence.

"Right," Dean snorted. "It really looked like you were handling it. Basically unconscious with the amulet starting to burn a hole right through you."

"Well, and how did _you_ handle it? Running off into the woods like that?" Bela sighed. "Dean, darling, what were you thinking?"

_Is she accusing me of leaving her behind to die, or of saving her life?_ Dean wondered.

"I was thinking about – " _you._ He stopped just short of voicing the last word, and hastily amended his statement. "I _wasn't_ thinking."

"A habit of yours, I imagine."

"_'A habit of yours I imagine_,'" Dean mimicked maturely. "How about _'thanks for saving my damn life_?'"

"Yes, and how much do I owe you for that?" Bela smiled sweetly, then winced and touched her finger to her sore lip.

_Money. Of course she reverts to money._

Dean growled with frustration. "More than you're willing to give me, how about tha – _ow_, watch it, Sammy!"

Bela, already bandaged up, rolled her eyes. "Oh, really, don't be such a baby. It's just a few flesh wounds."

It wasn't, and they both knew it. She was – as usual – simply trying to annoy him (and, as usual, succeeding with very little effort). He was really starting to wonder why he'd saved her in the first place. Then again, and he was probably imagining it, but he thought he detected a certain note of affection in her tone that he hadn't noticed before.

"Really?" Dean shook his head at her. "A_ few _flesh wounds? I got completely pummeled and ripped apart by _your_ monsters. _'Don't be a baby' _is all you've got for me?"

_How about thank you, you saved me, my hero…_ (Okay, he admitted she would probably never say that. But a guy could hope.)

"Of course, yes, _my_ monsters," said Bela irritably. "As if I brought them down on you on purpose."

"Didn't you?" Dean retorted and was glad _she_ seemed a little annoyed now, too. Score one for him.

"I don't recall actually _asking_ for your help, you know," she said haughtily.

_Right, sweetheart, you could've dealt with all that all by your lonesome._

"You stole our box and then came back with it," said Dean. "What were we supposed – "

"For _love_ of all that is good," Sam cut in sharply. "Shut the hell up!"

He exhaled in a rush and Dean got the distinct impression that Sam was seriously considering using a tranquilizer on them. Dean and Bela lapsed into a moody, exhausted silence.

He stole a few glances at her when she wasn't paying attention. All right, so maybe he _was_ kinda glad she was alive, despite her acting like her usual self. In fact, he thought he was actually _a lot_ more than just _kinda glad_ – but he shoved those thoughts away hard and fast with the ease of plenty of practice, and kept them very much to himself.

He didn't care about her – he didn't. He was simply doing his job. He _didn't_ care about her... not even a little bit. (And maybe he'd never be as good a liar as Bela was, but Dean was _very_ good at lying to himself.)

* * *

When Sam was finished patching them up, he helped them to their wobbly feet. He got them each a glass of water and a handful of pain meds from the medicine cabinet. The short-lived quiet was swiftly broken when Dean and Bela realized they'd be sharing the one and only bed.

"No way in hell," Dean snapped. "Not with her."

"I don't care how injured he is, he can take the floor," Bela said at the same time.

"There's only _one_ bed," Sam shouted above their protests, exasperated. "And you both need it. You'll survive."

The other two were _just_ exhausted enough that they didn't fight too much harder, past mumbled snarky comments back and forth. Sam ignored the moaning and complaining about how much they were hurting as they each climbed onto the bed, while he retrieved another set of blankets from the closet so they wouldn't have to share the covers.

"She'll probably hog them all anyways," Dean grumbled, downing the pills Sam had given him.

Bela stuck her tongue out at him and followed suit with the meds in her hand, tossing them all back in one gulp.

"Just go to sleep," Sam implored them both wearily. He was visibly drained, but stood sentinel at the end of the bed until both Dean and Bela were actually laying down, pulling blankets over themselves. He crossed the room and flipped off the light before exiting and shutting the door behind him.

Dean shifted carefully to make himself comfortable on the squishy bed, trying not to aggravate his injuries.

"I hope you don't snore," she said.

"Shut up," he replied, but without heat. He yawned wide and was surprised by how hazy he felt already. It took another moment to catch on. "Sonofabitch," he muttered.

"Bollocks," Bela groaned. "He gave us a bit of tranquilizer after all, didn't he?" she added, and he could hear the smile in her voice.

Dean couldn't help laughing. So he hadn't been the only one to correctly interpret Sam's frowny face earlier.

"Yeah, pretty sure he did." He grinned in the dark.

"Clever boy," Bela murmured.

Dean turned onto his back and hissed through his teeth as his body protested – the meds clearly hadn't quite kicked in yet, though whatever Sam had given him to force him to sleep certainly was doing its work. His limbs felt sluggish and dull. His burned hand was gently throbbing.

"Damn it… you're dangerous to my health, woman," he mumbled. He could feel sleep tugging at him.

"Mm," she acknowledged softly, slipping away herself. She shifted a little bit closer to him. "At least..." she yawned. "At least you didn't get poisoned this time."

"That'sss… true…" Dean slurred.

"I'm… glad…" Bela whispered, so quietly he wasn't entirely sure he heard her.

Under the blankets he thought he felt her hand slide into his, and he would have smiled, but he was too close to sleep to properly react. His last thought was that he was undecided if in the morning he would tease her for taking advantage of him in his weakened state, or whether he wouldn't say anything at all.

**-end-**

* * *

**A/n:** Thank you for reading! Any and feedback is love. :D


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